


Dan and Phil Accidentally Go To Hell

by quintessentially3



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Accident, Accidental Demon Summoning, Alternate Universe - Hell, Clumsy Phil Lester, Crushes, Cussing, Dan Howell/Phil Lester Comfort, Early Work, Emotions, Going to Hell, Hell, Hell is suprisingly chill, Idiots in Love, Light Angst, M/M, Multi, Mutual Pining, Other, Platonic Cuddling, Satan - Freeform, Short Chapters, Slow Burn, Still Youtubers, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-30
Updated: 2018-02-18
Packaged: 2019-03-03 05:29:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13334460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quintessentially3/pseuds/quintessentially3
Summary: This all started when Dan opened a frantic voicemail from Phil, who had opened a portal into Hell.





	1. What. The. Fuck. Happened?

He'd left the flat, by himself, on a charity mission: Phil was sick and apparently couldn't go pick up his own medicine. And because he was a good friend, Dan was sitting on one of the hard tube seats, on a quest to retrieve cough syrup. Yawning, he fished his phone out of his pocket.  

Unsurprisingly, there were about 70 texts from Phil and about 12 missed calls, also from Phil, which was precisely why he kept his ringer off. He could always count on Phil to get bored and spam him. 

Sighing, Dan cleared his notifications after skimming them to see if there was anything urgent or actually important. His stop was coming up, and he had a plan of attack that would hopefully minimize his time outside and in contact with other human beings. He'd grab Phil's medicine from the pharmacy and maybe pick up some take out and then head back to the apartment and watch a movie with Phil. 

The tube glided into the station and pulled to a halt, opening its doors to spill people out into the city. Dan stood up, slid his phone back into his pockets, and followed the rest of the passengers out and up into the city, blinking a few times in the sunlight.

He oriented himself and started off towards the pharmacy, hoping that he wouldn't get lost. Dan knew his way around pretty well, definitely a lot better than Phil, but he stayed inside enough that there was always the possibility of him taking the wrong street or getting turned around. London was a big city, after all. 

* * *

Dan was already on the tube when he pulled his phone out of his pocket again. More texts. He rolled his eyes. Dan could understand a few messages in an hour, but this was ridiculous, even for Phil. With an exasperated sigh, he rang Phil. 

"Dan?" Phil answered before the first ring had even finished. "Oh thank god. You need to get back here-"

"Yeah, I'm on my way back." Dan interrupted, trying not to sound cross. "I bought take out." 

 "Oh, really? Did you get eggroll-" Phil was cut off by what sounded like something tearing and a piercing, wind-like howl. Dan yanked the phone away from his ear, almost dropping it in the process. Maybe Phil was playing a video game or something. Although Dan didn't think he'd ever heard sound effects like that before. And Phil never answered his phone when gaming. 

"Phil? Hello?" Dan asked, tentatively holding the phone back to his ear. There was nothing on the line, just a faint static, which rose in pitch as Dan listened, getting so loud he had to pull his phone away from his ear again. Definitely not a video game. 

Hands shaking, Dan hung up and rang Phil again. He didn't pick up right away. Dan swallowed, letting the phone ring. What the hell had that noise been? Why wasn't Phil answering? A million answers, each worse than the last, started to fill Dan's head. What if Phil had been attacked? What if something had started on fire? _What if fucking aliens had kidnapped Phil?_

As soon as the tube pulled into the station Dan was out of his seat, racing up into the city, takeout bag hitting his thigh as he ran towards the flat. He made it there in record time, taking the stairs two and a time. He paused outside their door, chest heaving, fingers fumbling around in his pocket for his keys.

As soon as he got that door open, he was going to throw the takeout as hard as he could and hope that it distracted whoever (or whatever) was in the apartment, giving him enough time to grab Phil and get out. 

Taking a deep breath, Dan pushed open the door to their apartment, takeout aimed and ready, only to discover--nothing. Everything looked normal. 

"Phil?" Dan called, stepping cautiously into the apartment. No one answered. Dan frowned, stepping further into the apartment. "Phil?" He called again, lowering the takeout to the floor and slipping off his coat. His voice echoed back to him. The apartment was empty, and totally quiet. 

Suddenly, a strange, high-pitched shriek cut through the silent air, causing Dan to jump. He grabbed the closest item (one of Phil's boots) and brandished it like a sword in front of him as he turned wildly from side to side, searching for the source of the noise. He could see nothing. Except... wait, what was that on the floor of the living room? 

Dan took a few more tentative steps forward, boot ready if should something appear. He edged closer, just close enough to make out-- _what the fuck was that?_

Frowning, he studied the strange display that had been etched into the floor of their flat. It looked like a- like a- Dan shook his head. It couldn't be possible. That was just too weird. He had called Phil only to be cut off by some sort of trans-dimensional scream, come home to an empty apartment, and heard another inhuman scream, after which a pentagram had appeared on the floor, lines drawn neatly in white chalk. 

He dropped the boot, his hands instead moving to clutch his head. "What the fuck, what the actual fuck, What the actual. Fuck. Is. Going. On." Dan was talking to himself, his mind trying to understand the situation before him. It seemed Phil had joined a cult in the past year or something and had attempted a ritual by himself that had gone horribly wrong.

"Phil, you little shit, if this is a prank," Dan raised his voice and his head, looking around. It was almost logical. He could almost see Phil doing something like this if he was bored enough. Almost. Phil wasn't that mean-spirited though, was he? He knew Dan hated supernatural demonic stuff.

A noise pulled him out of his thoughts. He whirled around, facing the stairs now, instinctively moving towards the closest wall. The top of the stairway, where his and Phil's bedrooms were, was surprisingly dark. Too dark for Dan to see anything other than a small series of movements, making their way towards the stairs.

Dan's heart was racing. He never took his eyes off the stairway, hands groping blindly for anything, anything at all, that he could use to defend himself. This was absolutely terrifying, worse than any video game or haunted house he'd ever been to. He imagined Phil's body somewhere upstairs, already mauled beyond recognition. This creature must have killed Phil when Phil had summoned and lost control of it. After Phil had tried to run upstairs... to what? to escape? It didn't matter. The creature had killed Phil, and now it was going to kill Dan.

Dan had never been religious, but as the creature, which was taking an agonizingly slow time to show itself, was making its way through the dark, Dan found himself muttering prayers to any god that he thought could hear him. He could hardly breathe, could hardly move, he was shaking so bad. He'd never understood that whole 'fright paralysis' thing until now. He closed his eyes, screwing them shut. Tears dripped down his face. He'd been too late, too late to save Phil. He should have phoned the police. Did the police deal with the supernatural? Probably not. But at least it wouldn't be Dan is this situation. 

He was going to die. He was going to die. He'd never make another video. He'd never get to wrap his arms around Phil as they watched a movie together. He'd never get a dog, or see the world. 26 was too young. So fucking young. Oh god, how would people find out? Their parents, their fans? He'd always liked meeting fans, even if they could be a bit annoying. But it had been so amazing to see how he and Phil had changed peoples' lives and made them happier. He'd done so much already. 

But there were still all of those nevers. He'd never get married. He'd never have kids. Heck, he'd probably never see another stupid meme about himself. He wondered if it would be painful. 

And then the creature coughed. Not a weird, alternate hell universe cough of death, but a pretty human cough, actually. One that Dan had just been pretty sure he'd never hear again. Slowly, he opened his eyes, wondering if it was all just a ruse so the creature could stare into his eyes as it killed him. 

But there wasn't a demon standing at the end of the steps. At least, not a demon from Hell. The creature let out another coughing fit. Nope. Definitely not a demon. 

"Dan." Phil rasped, mostly done coughing. His eyes were bloodshot and he looked paler than normal, if that was even possible for Phil. Dan couldn't decide whether to slap him or hug him and never let go. 

"You bitch." He hissed, rushing away from the wall and wrapping Phil in a hug. Phil froze for a second before wrapping his arms around Dan. Dan pressed his face into Phil's neck, to overcome with emotion to speak. He was aware that he was crying softly, and aware that Phil was murmuring softly to him, but nothing else was really registering.

"I...I though you were dead." He whispered. Phil laid his head on Dan's shoulder.  
"I would never leave you." He promised, whispering softly into Dan's ear, which just made Dan cry harder. Phil was alive. He was ok. He hadn't been sucked into a hell-dimension or mauled by a demon.

Speaking of which, Phil had a lot of explaining to do. Dan pulled back from the hug, looking Phil in the eye, suddenly pissed. 

"So. Care to explain what this is?" He asked, gesturing at the pentagram. Phil took on a sheepish expression.   
"Oh. That. Um... Maybe you should sit down. Also, did you get us anything thing to eat? I'm starving." Dan glared at him and pointed to the takeout bag by the door. Phil grabbed it, spread it's contents out the coffee table, took a shot of his medicine, and started explain just what had taken place in the last few hours, to the sweet taste of Chinese. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so a new fic- in time for Phil's birthday tomorrow!!! happy birthday dad!!! I'm going to try and keep an update schedule for this fic (ha) so tune in Monday the 5th of February (i had to look up a calendar lol) for chapter 2! please leaves comments I love reading them and could always use feedback. thanks to everyone for reading/leaving kudos, love you all. and yes, I will have the next chapter in What Happens on the Bus Stays on the Bus out soon. You can check that out here if you want: http://archiveofourown.org/works/12364749/chapters/28125246


	2. Phil Lester's Alternative Medicine (Patent Pending!)

"Wait, so let me get this straight," Dan said, "You were looking up alternative medicines on the Internet and a website suggested summoning Satan?"

Phil had just finished a long and rather complex story, peppered with unnecessary details (but that was Phil for you- always getting side-tracked) and they were finishing the last of the now-cold takeout. 

"I didn't think it would actually work," Phil protested weakly. Dan sighed and shook his head. 

"So that weird ass ripping noise I heard over the phone, was it from that?" He asked, not bothering to hide the anger in his tone, with a nod at the pentagram.

"Yeah. I, um, accidentally stepped on it and, um, activated it." Phil explained, his eyes flicking across Dan's face. "It sucked my phone into it." He added, not that Dan particularly cared. He was a bit more concerned about the _fucking pentagram on the floor_. 

"And you thought that if you somehow managed to summon Satan or a demon or whatever the fuck you were trying to summon, it would cure you or something? And even if that didn't work, did you even think about drawing a pentagram in _the middle of our living room_?" Dan demanded, standing up to pace. He realized he was angry and that he was probably over-reacting, but it wasn't like there was a guide anywhere on how to act when you get a weird call from your best friend and come home to find he's attempting to summon Satan _in your living room_  (well, maybe somewhere in the depths of the Internet that guide existed).Oh, and 20 minutes ago he'd had been sure that Phil was dead and that he himself had been about to die. So he did have justification for being mad at Phil. 

"Did you even think about how I would react to you attempting to summon Satan in our living room? What part of this sounded like a good idea to you? I mean, most people would just take medicine and sleep, but nooooo, not Phil Lester, he has to _fucking summon Satan."_  Dan was practically yelling now, gesturing wildly. He stopped to take a breath, arms crossed over his chest, glaring at Phil, who watched him with an expression that was growing guiltier by the second.   

"Are you done?" Phil asked quietly, eyes fixated on a spot on the floor, toying with a small vial Dan had yet to notice. Dan frowned at him, opening his mouth to speak again.

"Actually- Wait, what are you holding?" Dan had spotted the vial, now clasped in Phil's left hand. "Let me see." Dan commanded, holding his hands out.

Phil tossed it to him, allowing himself a small smile as Dan fumbled to catch it. Dan managed to keep his grip on the vial, though, and Phil changed his expression into a more somber one as Dan looked back up at him. He gestured with the vial as if to verify that he'd caught it before turning it to reveal a pastel label that read "Phil Lester's Alternative Medicine" in a loopy font that he'd had seen on Tumblr. Underneath that, in smaller letters, Phil had written "Patent Pending!" in the same font. Dan raised his eyebrows. 

"You... Bought a fucking patent? For your Satan-medicine? That you don't even have yet?" He was incredulous. Phil shrugged.

"I thought it would sound better." Dan sighed, pacing around the living room again, being careful to avoid the pentagram. 

"What even made you think someone would buy this?" He asked, pressing a hand to his head. Phil shrugged again.

"I wasn't really going to sell it." He offered unconvincingly. Dan turned to look at Phil.

"Uh-huh. Definitely. You realize this is probably illegal?" Phil glanced down, reminding Dan of a kid who'd just been reprimanded. 

"I'm not going to sell it." He promised, looking up at Dan, sea green eyes wide. Dan just shook his head. 

"I can't- I can't believe this." He seethed. "I mean, what were you thinking, Phil?" Phil said nothing, staring at the floor as though he wished he could disappear into it. Dan stared at him, waiting for an answer, arms crossed over his chest, one hand still gripping the empty vial, the picture of an angry parent.

But when Phil finally looked up, Dan felt his resolve to stay angry crack, because Phil's eyes, his beautiful eyes that Dan could have stared into for hours, eyes that reminisced the rise and fall of the tides, the crash of waves on a shore, eyes that encompassed the entire ocean, were filled with shame, that ocean within them darkening.

Because of Dan. And Dan couldn't stand that. He crossed the room in a few steps and sat down next to Phil so that they were both facing the pentagram, their knees touching. And they sat like that for a minute, looking at Phil's demonic artwork, before Dan's curiosity (and need to reconcile with Phil) got the best of him. 

"So, does it work?" He asked, turning to look at Phil. Phil glanced up at him, eyes wide and confused. He gestured at the pentagram on the floor in front of them.

"I literally just spent half an hour explaining that it does work and that it sucked my phone into it." He exclaimed. Dan blinked, having been expecting a very different response, maybe one more along the lines of 'Only one way to find out,' although that was kind of cliche.  

"Oh," Dan replied, frowning. "...How?" Phil gave him a suspicious look, prompting Dan to throw his hands up. He wasn't faking it for Phil's benefit anymore, he was genuinely curious, and if he was honestly, only half-terrified. After all, it wasn't ever day your flatmate attempted to summon Satan (seriously, what the fuck had been going through Phil's mind?) and Dan had never seen a pentagram up close before, because he usually tried to avoid them. 

"You just need to step in on one of the circle-y parts and a portal will open in the star part." Phil explained in a very Phil manner, "Like this." He stood and took a step forward, placing his feet in the closest "circle-y part." Almost immediately, there was a tearing noise, the same one Dan had heard on the phone, followed by an inhuman scream (their neighbors were probably about to call the police) as the floor in front of Phil's feet lit up, shooting brilliant white light up and out into the apartment. Dan threw his arms over his face, shielding his eyes. In front of him, Phil stood silhouetted by light, a tall figure with his head thrown back and arms lifted slightly at his sides. He looked like some type of god. Dan gulped, moving forward as the light faded into itself, revealing a swirling portal of darkness that stretched out from the center of the pentagram, accompanied by the sound of static.

Phil glanced at him, any trace of the demon-summoning god he'd been before gone. 

"See?" He said.    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woo hoo i finished the chapter ahead of time (i'm so proud of myself this never happens). please comment, i love getting feedback! also, thanks to everyone who's read or left kudos, you guys are pretty much the only reason i actually update. speaking of which, next update will hopefully be complete by monday february 12th. see you then!


	3. The Glowing Space Portal To Hell

"No. No way. This is not happening." Dan was full-on freaking out now. Like, pacing-elaborate-hand-gestures-flat-out-refusal-to-believe-what-was-happening-freaking-out. And debating calling the police, if their neighbors hadn't already. And whether or not Phil was sane, because there was a fucking portal on their floor. Every so often a horrendous scream of the undead would rise out of it, making Dan jump and causing goose flesh to appear on his skin. Phil was standing in the pentagram, peering into it. He didn't seem at all bothered, which didn't do much to sooth Dan. 

"I think I see something." Phil said, as though he had just spotted a bird or a whale or some completely normal, earth-creature. He was squinting into the swirling-death-portal, leaning forward to get a better view _._ "There's... like, a light or something." Dan stopped pacing to look at Phil, his eyes widening anxiously.  

"What do you mean there's a light?" He hurried to Phil's side, careful not to touch the pentagram (he didn't want some fucking Satanic-bone-summoning-cocaine powder anywhere near him), and looked down, steadying himself by resting his hand lightly on Phil's shoulder. He didn't miss the small glance Phil gave him before looking back down into the portal. 

Phil was right, there was something emerging from the darkness. At least, if Dan squinted. If he was squinting, he could definitely make something out. Down there. In the glowing hell portal of doom. 

"Do you see it?" Phil asked, looking at Dan again. He looked kind of worried, actually, which was a tad reassuring. Phil hadn't actually seemed concerned by this up until now, and Dan had seriously been nervous for Phil's sanity. 

"Yeah..." Dan turned, stepping away from Phil, "I see it." He took a few steps towards their kitchen. "Don't move!" he added, as he walked around the counter and started rummaging through doors--He'd had an idea. "Where..." He muttered to himself, mentally cursing both him and Phil for having so much clutter. In a few seconds though, he found what he'd come for: a torch. 

Turning it on and then back off to double check it worked, Dan closed the drawers and started back into the living room, pausing in the doorway to look back at the kitchen. His gaze landed on the knife block and he returned to the other side of the kitchen and pulled the two largest knives, which weren't all that big, out of the block. But Dan figured it would better to at least have some protection, and if worst came to worst they could at least injure whatever the fuck was emerging from that portal. Assuming it had a body that could be injured by knieves.  

Phil was in the same position when Dan returned, still staring into the portal. 

"It's growing." He informed Dan, which sounded totally creepy and was not at all the wording Dan would have chosen. 

"Wonderful," Dan muttered, passing a knife to Phil. Phil frowned at it but grabbed it. As he did, the edge of the blade caught the light streaming in from the window. Phil made a small noise, staring at it, suddenly transfixed.

"Phil?" Dan's eyes flicked nervously from the knife to Phil's face, where a strange, almost thoughtful look rest. He turned the blade slightly, eyes feasting on the silver steel gleaming in the light.

"Phil," Dan repeated, changing his tone. He tightened his grip on his own knife, just slightly. Something about this didn't feel right.

Phil tore his attention away from the knife, his face returned to an expression Dan was used to. 

"What?" He asked, lowering the knife. Dan swallowed. 

"Nothing." He turned, looking back into the portal. He didn't want to think about what had just happened, about the way the light had reflected off the blade and off the sharp curve of Phil's face, about Phil's expression, which had been... cold. The way he'd looked so thoughtful, so calculating, as though he was... realizing something. 

Dan had made a video a few years ago, one where he'd talked about his 'psycho thoughts' and about how he sometimes fantasized about just how easy it would be to murder someone. Phil's face a few minutes ago had reminded him of that video, of someone realizing that they had power over life and death. Phil hadn't looked evil or anything... but his expression had managed to chill Dan to the bones, and he had a feeling it would remain with him for a long time. 

Slowly, he shined the torch into the hole, setting his knife down. What he saw nearly made him drop the torch. 

Faces swirled in the dark matter on either side of the approaching... Thing. Horrible faces, twisted into grotesque expressions of agony, some as detailed and realistic as his or Phil's, others looking like they'd been drawn by an amateur artist. They swelled in the darkness, mouths twisted in frowns so deep they were almost comical, empty eye sockets somehow expressing emotion so vividly it made Dan's heart well up in despair. 

"Dan?" Phil asked. Dan tore his attention from the hole, looking at Phil, who stared down into it with a slightly troubled expression. Dan swallowed. 

"Do you see the faces?" He asked timidly, his voice shaking. Phil's frown deepened. 

"...Yeah," He responded slowly, taking the torch from Dan, "But I think we have a bigger problem."

Dan almost didn't hear Phil. He was rocking back and forth, breathing slowly, eyes squeezed shut, trying to calm down. After a second, he opened his eyes again. 

"No. I'm done. That's... too fucked." He stood, swaying slightly on his feet. He felt sick. He took a step forward, his back to the portal. Then another. And another. Eventually he was at the door to the apartment. 

"I'm going outside." Dan announced slowly. "Ok, Phil?" There was no response.

"Phil?" Dan swallowed. _Not this again. Please, not this._ Slowly, he turned, afraid of what he might see.

The portal was still open on the floor, but Phil was gone. 

"Damnit!" Dan hissed, racing back over, practically falling on his knees in his hurry. His hand closed around the handle of his knife and he looked down.

There was nothing but a mass of writhing darkness in the hole.

"Shit. Shit. Shit." Dan stabbed his knife down into the darkness. It was met with absolutely no resistance and he almost toppled forward into the portal. Thank god he couldn't see those faces. Those faces with their twisted, jeering mouths. He imagined his knife slicing down into their throats, swallowed up by the darkness... empty sockets somehow bulging and pulsating, the darkness that was their skin twitching and sliding together like sandpaper...

Dan yanked his knife out of the portal so fast he almost hurt his arm. He was breathing heavily. Panting, he leaned back against the couch, heart racing. He hadn't asked for this. Softly, a sob escaped his mouth, tearing through the air, rising above the static hissing of the portal. The reality, the crazy, fucked up reality, of his situation was sinking in.

Phil was gone.

He'd been sucked into some sort of hell dimension as quickly and as quietly and as a drowning person slips under the water. And Dan was alone, clutching a knife and scared.    

Then the tears started, falling softly at first, small drops of water rolling across Dan's face and down his chin. Soon one sob became a whole storm of them. He had no idea what to do. He didn't know what he should do next, what Phil would have done in this situation. There was no one to help him through this, no one to help him if he made a mistake.

Dan slide down on to the floor, curling up and whimpering softly, the knife held tightly to his chest. 

He stared into the portal. He looked into the abyss. And he felt it looking into him, felt it's dark, storm-cloud fingers brush his mind. He heard a million whispers run through his mind at once. Phil would have made an ASMR joke. Damn him. Him and his stupid jokes and his goofy, creative personality and his sunny deposition, which had always been such a contrast to Dan's darker personality.

And then he saw it. He saw the darkness of the portal and his mind connected it to Phil's hair. Inky black, with that shiny, millions-of-tiny-strands-texture. 

He knew what Phil would do, if the situation was reversed. He knew what he was going to do. 

He just didn't know if he could. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HA! I'm ahead of time again! Fuck Yes! also please excuse shitty editing it's 3am right now i'll fix it later. once again, thank you all for reading, leaving comments/kudos, and bookmarking. i seriously love hearing from you guys. also did the description of the knife swallowing faces disturb anyone else because i literally hated writing that you have no idea it was like the word moist for me. the next update should be next monday as well and if you've been reading my other fics i finally posted part 1 of the brendon chapter in what happens on the bus stays on the bus. thanks again guys and im super tired so ima go to sleep now! love you!


	4. So The Glowing Space Portal To Hell Can Read Minds

Dan adjusted the bag on his shoulders. The portal was still open on the floor, staring (could portals stare?) up at him. He swallowed. Somehow, the damn thing had remained open, despite the fact that Phil was no longer standing on it. Which, to Dan's knowledge, wasn't how these things were supposed to work. He was pretty sure, too, that you were supposed to make some sort of sacrifice... And he didn't want to think about what that implied. He didn't want to think about Phil killing something.

Dan turned and tugged on the rope tied around his waist. He'd tied the other end around the foot of the couch at least three times, resulting in a knot bigger than his fist. He still didn't trust it. Not completely. In every horror game or movie or show he'd ever seen, the size of the knot hadn't stopped the rope from breaking.

This rope probably wasn't meant for repelling into hell; he'd found it in Phil's prop box. And he wasn't exactly confident in his ability to repel down into the portal, either. He also didn't know if repelling would even work. This wasn't exactly a cliff face. 

He took a deep breath before lifting the red kerchief he'd found up to his mouth and tying it around his face, covering his mouth and nose. He would have preferred a gas mask. Hell, he would have preferred a hazmat suit.

Dan took a few tentative steps forward, squeezing his eyes tight once before opening them and blinking a few times. He was breathing fast again. 

He stopped at the edge of the portal. It swirled and opened upon itself, a gaping maw without teeth. The faces were visible again, swirling briefly into focus, one at a time, each more horrifying than the last, before crumbling into a smooth, dark, almost sand-like substance. Dan could hear their miserable calls in his bones, welling up inside him, an invader in his system. He felt like a part of him would be sucked into the portal with them. He could feel it, tugging on the edge of his senses, sending tingles up and down his spine. It wanted him to join them. It wanted him to become one of them. It was so nice in the portal, dark and warm and--

Dan jerked backward, away from the portal. He'd been leaning forward, in a trance. His instincts had been the only thing that had kept him from falling in. 

Chest heaving, he sat down. The portal had some sort of hypnotic power, something that made the darkness in it seem... Welcoming, in a way. Dan shuddered and looked away. What would have happened if he hadn't pulled away? If he'd kept staring into the portal? The image of Phil holding the knife flashed in his mind.

Dan looked at the portal again, his eyes widening.  _Shit._ He lifted a hand to his face, yanking off the kerchief to breathe easier. This... And Phil... 

He stood up again, readjusting his pack. He couldn't waste any more time. Something bad was going on, and it evidently involved Phil. And if Phil was in any danger... Dan would... He'd... Well, it would be pretty fucking badass. He and Phil protected each other. That was the deal, that was their unspoken agreement. 

Dan glared at the portal. Phil was somewhere inside it, probably in danger. Probably being murdered or hurt or bloodily mutilated.

He could save Phil as long as he moved _right now._ But Dan's feet stayed right where they were, several feet from the portal. 

"Damnit," Dan hissed, "Move." He wrenched his foot off the ground, taking a few steps forward, literally forcing himself to the edge of the portal. 

He stopped a step away from it, leaning forward slightly to peer inside. The darkness welled up, as if it was expecting him, and he almost lost his nerve.

Then he took a step backward, readied his stance, and pushed off against the floor, diving into the portal with a yell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, sorry the chapter is so short! I didn't think I'd get around to updating today, as i've been procrastinating this writing this chapter all week, so that's something. I probably won't be able to update next monday because i'll be traveling, so the next definite update will be into like 2 weeks, although hopefully I'll get to it sooner. As always, thanks to you all for reading, commenting, bookmarking and leaving kudos! Love you all!


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